Four hours and ticking and I cannot seem to be copacetic to the privacy of her suspicious absence. How could I be when frightening tremors had shook their country just earlier today? It has been quite common to read about earthquakes rocking Italy recently, and the more these events take place, the more people feel less surprised about the fatalities. At the moment, I can sit on this chair being bothered by Starbucks personnel every half an hour or so, waiting for updates of Miriam's whereabouts. Surely she would be safe. I suppose my fears always come back to bite me in my arse. This is a farcry from mine fears. Far be it from the truth, I will not let it tear me asunder. She will be back to me soon enough, and then it would not take long before she will be in my arms, singing praises of our love, beneath the starry sky and our duvet. There is this unusual feeling of dread knowing that tomorrow I will be once again immersed into a job that I do not love; a return to form; of being factotum. Also, I fear that I may have grown a little bit attached to the idea of me calling my hedge home. It sure feels to me that the more I spend nights there, the more I lose my sense of shame. When I had come back at six in the morning after spending the entire night watching the final showdown between SK Telecom T1 and Samsung Galaxy at Westfield Shepherds Bush, there was no ounce of discomfort felt within me, as if I should be, but I did not.
Regardless, now I should learn to love again. Miriam has come back, and I must needs entertain my principessa.